Wrong Bed, Right Roommate (Accidental Love)

by Rebecca Brooks

  Jessie was better off without him distracting her, holding her back. Now everything could return to the way it was before they started hooking up, with Jessie and Talia living together, having fun, and working hard without him. And Shawn on a couch, losing one job and trying to scrounge up another as Thunder found a way to make it work without him.

  Only worse because, now that he knew what it was like to have the kind of connection he’d had with Jessie, one thing was certain. He wasn’t going to go from bed to bed again. If he couldn’t have her, he’d rather be alone.

  He was asleep again when he felt a weight sink down on the couch, shoving him to the side.

  “Knock it off,” he groaned, thinking it was Brandon being a dick.

  “Come on, doofus,” a voice said, and he opened his eyes.

  Talia was sitting on the far end of the couch, sticking her feet in his face like when they were little and she’d come back from dance class bouncing off the walls.

  He had no idea what time it was, or how long he’d been hiding from the world. But he could guess it had been a while.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, pushing her feet away and then getting his own feet up in her face when she refused to budge.

  “Ugh, gross!” she cried, swatting at him. “When was the last time you showered?”

  “Definitely last week,” he deadpanned. “I think. Sometime this month, probably.”

  “You suck,” she pouted.

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “This place is a pigsty.” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think that smell is just your socks. It’s like it’s baked into the walls.”

  He shrugged. “You sort of get used to it.”

  “You’re pathetic.”

  “Is that what you came here to tell me?”

  “You aren’t answering your phone. Even Mom called to ask me what happened to you.”

  He groaned. “What did you tell her?”

  “That you’re being an asshole, as usual.” She paused. “Since when do you, of all people, care so much about being dumped?”

  He lifted his head a little, then let it fall back on the pillow. Dumped. She made the word sound like it was nothing. Like Jessie was nothing. Like the giant boulder currently lodged in his chest was nothing. He pinched his eyes shut, willing her away.

  “Are you ignoring me now?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer.

  “You promised me you wouldn’t go after my friends anymore,” Talia said. “And the best friend I’ve had since elementary school? That’s low. Now you’ve officially slept with all of my closest childhood friends. Which, I’ll have you know, is the kind of thing that can give a girl nightmares.” She shuddered. “But Jessie’s still speaking to me, unlike the other two. So I don’t get why you’re still making this weird.”

  She grabbed his arm and tried to drag him up. But despite her efforts, he slumped down deeper on the couch.

  “It’s not about it being weird,” he finally said.

  He didn’t want to say anything else. He didn’t want to talk about this with his sister. But he could hear the way his voice caught on the word “weird,” and he knew Talia heard it, too.

  She stopped trying so damn hard to get him up and raised an eyebrow at him. He knew exactly what it meant.

  “Please, Talia. Leave this alone,” he warned.

  “Leave what alone?”

  That was his sister, a lovable pain in the ass since the day she was born.

  “This,” he said, gesturing around him. “Me. Jessie. My shit life.”

  He wanted to pretend everything had gone the way Talia was saying. Super casual, no big deal, look at Shawn up to his usual antics. Look at Jessie with her summer fling, the one where she got to have a little fun before she buttoned herself back up and returned to her regular life, thinking of him wistfully sometimes. And then not thinking about him at all.

  But he couldn’t do it.

  He couldn’t make this summer mean nothing. Even if he’d fucked it all up. Even if he couldn’t make it last. He couldn’t pretend to his sister that it had meant nothing at all.

  “I’m the one who ended it, Talia,” he said hoarsely. “You’d think that would be easier than getting dumped, but it doesn’t feel like that right now. I can’t just get up and act like everything’s fine when I—”

  He swallowed and stopped speaking abruptly. He was not going to cry in front of his sister. He’d rather spend the rest of his life glued to this couch and never have a job or a girlfriend again than let a single tear escape right now. So he just fucking stopped and tried to breathe deeply and not look like he was trying so goddamn hard not to lose it.

  “What are you talking about?” Talia said. “Jessie told me she was the one putting the brakes on, and that she was fine.”

  “Then maybe she is,” he said, that breathing thing not working so well anymore. “Fine, I mean.”

  But that doesn’t mean I am.

  “Just go home and hang out with your friend,” he said, coughing to try to make himself sound normal. “You guys have a lot to catch up on.”

  “Oh my God,” Talia said.

  He flung his forearm over his eyes. “Go get a drink. There’s a new place that opened on Fifth that Jessie likes. They have two-for-one deals until seven.”

  “Oh my God,” Talia said again.

  He dared to lift his forearm a little and open one eye. “What? I’m telling you, go.”

  “I’ve never seen you like this, Shawn.”

  He let his arm drop again. “Like what,” he grumbled.

  “Like…depressed,” she said. “Unhappy. Having feelings.”

  He dropped his arm by his side and stared at her. “I have feelings,” he said. “How could you think that I don’t?”

  “You’re just always so…” She waved her hand at him.

  “That”—he imitated the gesture—“doesn’t mean anything.”

  “I’ve seen you move on from a million girls before. Like, seriously. A million. Maybe more, I don’t know. At a certain point I stopped counting. But what I’m saying is, a lot.”

  “You’re not really helping.”

  “Like when Ellen lost her virginity to you, and then you dumped her like a week after and started going out with Steph, and then dumped her and—”

  “Could we not walk down memory lane right now?” His stomach clenched with the reminder of what a conceited little shit he used to be. Something Talia had once screamed at him after Ellen had voted her off of a dance group or something, but it had taken until now to fully sink in.

  “My point is,” she said, nudging his foot with hers, “you didn’t care about any of those dates. Admit it,” she said when he started to protest. “I don’t know if you got bored, or thought you could do better, or just wanted to fool around, or what. And you’re right, it’s ancient history. It doesn’t keep me up at night. And I don’t need to know the details.” She held up a hand, like he was actually about to say anything. “But I got so pissed about it because I wound up being the shit magnet when everyone was upset and mad at each other, and then mad at me for taking sides, or not taking sides, or hating you, or not, apparently, hating you enough.

  “But Shawn.” She stopped kicking him. “That was back when I knew it didn’t mean anything, so I just wished you would stay out of my social life and pick someone else. I’ve never seen you this upset. About anyone. About anything, really.”

  “It’s because Jean basically threatened to fire me,” he mumbled. “And give my fall special to some douchebag who usually works behind the bar.” He didn’t want to admit it, that he’d fucked up again. But that at least was something Talia would understand. It was safe Shawn, the usual Shawn. She’d roll her eyes and move on.

  But she didn’t. Instead, she stared at him. “Why doesn’t Jean want you doing the special?”

  “Because I didn’t show up today,” he said. “Or yesterday,” he added when Talia kept giving him that look. “
I guessed technically I missed a meeting about it.”

  “And why didn’t you show up to work with your brilliant new beer plan?” she asked with exaggerated patience, like she was trying to get a five-year-old to see that sticking crayons up his nose was a dumbass idea, because brain damage.

  “Leave me alone,” he said.

  “Shawn,” she cried, throwing up her hands. “You’re such a fucking idiot!”

  “Hey, would you keep it down? Those assholes are trying to sleep.” He gestured with his chin toward the hall where his roommates were doing who the fuck knew what.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, would you get your head out of your ass for two seconds and acknowledge why you haven’t peeled your stinky socks off this couch for two days?”

  “Please, Talia.” He realized he was pleading. “Don’t make me do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “Don’t make this hurt more than it already does.”

  “If it hurts so goddamn much, then why did you end it with her?”

  “Because you wanted me to!” he practically roared. Was she kidding? He never would have screwed himself over like this if it wasn’t for her.

  “Oh, no,” she said, shaking her head. “Do not blame this one on me.”

  “You came home crying, you got mad about me dating one of your friends, and you basically made it so that we had to end it,” he told her.

  “I know, and I’m sorry. But that was before I knew what was really going on.”

  Shawn narrowed his eyes at her. He suddenly had no idea what was happening.

  “I get that you didn’t tell me because you thought I’d get mad,” she said. “Which, surprise! I was. But, Shawn, I was mad because I figured you’d dump her and move on like you always do. Not because I didn’t want the two people I love most in the world to be happy.”

  Shawn’s heartbeat revved up. He couldn’t tell if it was because he was pissed or because, for a split second, he wasn’t.

  “What are you saying?” he asked warily.

  “It’s not about what I’m saying,” she said. “It’s what you’re not.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Stop lying to yourself.” Talia folded her arms and stared him down. That was his fierce, determined little sister, the one who didn’t let anything stop her and didn’t let him get away with shit.

  He sighed. “It’s still over.”

  “Because you’re letting it die. Why do you always do this, Shawn? Why do you always run away right when things get just a tiny bit hard?”

  He wanted to have some kind of smart-ass response. Who did she think she was, saying all this to him? But he couldn’t come up with anything to prove she was wrong.

  “Because no matter what I try, I know it’s not going to work out,” he finally relented. “The only thing I’ve ever been good at is baseball. And, honestly, I wasn’t even that good. So most of the time, it’s better if I don’t even bother. That way I’m not disappointed when it doesn’t work.”

  “Of course it’s not going to work if you leave first,” Talia said, aghast.

  Shawn gave a sad, self-pitying grin. “Exactly.”

  “There’s nothing you want badly enough that you’re willing to work for it? Nothing you’d take a risk for, even if it knocks you on your ass?”

  She stared at him so hard that he had to look away.

  “Don’t think this doesn’t stress me out all the time,” he said. “I know that I don’t have a career, I don’t have any direction, I don’t have anyone in my life because I leave everything before it can grow. I really don’t need you to remind me.”

  “But you don’t have to be like that, Shawn. No one’s making you give up so easily.”

  He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Jessie can do so much better. I barely even have a job anymore and she’s—”

  “Amazing?” Talia interrupted. “Smart? Funny? Patient? Kind? A total rock when you need it? No one has ever stood by me the way Jessie has, or had my back for so many years. She deserves everything, and if you hurt her, I’ll literally murder you in my sleep, family or not.”

  “See, that’s the kind of thing that makes me want to run for the hills,” Shawn said, feeling his eyes go wide. “Because of course I’m going to hurt her. I’m going to fuck up.” He thought of the callous note he’d left her, acting as though their relationship was nothing. “I already have.”

  “You hurt her by giving up. By not acting like she’s worth putting in the effort for.”

  “I’m so confused,” he said, trying to think through how he’d gone from thinking Talia wanted him to break up with Jessie, to this.

  “It’s not that complicated,” she said.

  “I’m pretty sure it’s the most complicated thing there is.”

  “What is?” she asked.

  “Falling in love with someone.” It came out as a whisper. He could barely say the words.

  “If you love her, then why aren’t you with her?” Talia asked.

  Shawn swallowed. It was too hard to even think about. “Because she deserves so much more. She should be with someone who can talk about books and keep up with how smart she is and, you know, not go around fucking everything up.”

  Even if his sister was rooting for them, there was still so much standing in his way.

  “Pssst, come here. I have a secret.” She leaned in close. “Everyone’s a fuck-up,” she whispered in his ear. “Some people just hide it better than others.”

  She sat back, smugly satisfied as he let a small smile escape. “Not Jessie,” he said, shaking his head.

  “She’s awesome, yeah. But she’s not some goddess on a pedestal. Treat her like a real person, Shawn. I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure that’s kind of what love is. And anyway,” she added. “Were you actually fired? Or are you just doing that thing again where you leave first so you don’t have to deal with the fallout? You don’t show up with an idea to try, so if it doesn’t work—no big deal?”

  When he didn’t answer, she stood up, yanked the sheet off him, and tossed it at the foot of the couch.

  “I’m not telling you how to live your life. Lord knows I don’t have my shit together. But if you want something, I don’t see why you’re hell-bent on not letting yourself have it. Even if it’s hard, it’s better than not having anything at all.”

  He looked up at the crack of peeled paint in the ceiling. He was sick of staring at it and not getting any answers. He was sick of making the same mistakes over and over again, and not getting different results.

  And he was sick of his sister being such a pain—especially when he grudgingly had to admit that, sometimes, she might be right.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jessie sat at the computer, but the words on the screen kept blurring. It turned out it was nearly impossible to edit while crying. She knew because she’d been trying for two days without success.

  Marlene was hungry to see Jessie’s edits and get moving on the book. Technically they were due first thing Monday morning, but she’d made it sound like she was doing so much good work on them, she needed an extra day. It wasn’t like she could admit that she’d blown them off completely. She’d be packing her bags for Pennsylvania and defaulting on her loans before she knew it.

  But there was no escaping her boss forever. Tomorrow was the big meeting to go over her progress and, hopefully, send the first batch of comments to Tabitha so she could get working. But at the moment, what Jessie had to show for herself after all her supposedly hard work was…

  Absolutely nothing.

  She’d barely glanced at the thing. And when she did, it was like tonight, all the words swimming in front of her eyes. Nothing made sense—not the enemy horses, the friendly dragons, and certainly not the bullshit love story between a female knight and the ne’er-do-well prince she was working with undercover for…reasons Jessie couldn’t figure out, although she wasn’t sure if that was because Marlene was right and the story was confusing, or because ge
tting so brutally dumped by Shawn had scrambled her brain even more than the Shawn Effect had—which was seriously saying something.

  There was no way she could show up in Marlene’s office with zero changes to Tabitha’s manuscript, eyes puffy from crying, and some sob story about how her roommate moved out—but he’d been more than her roommate. They hadn’t really been dating—or maybe they had, but it wasn’t going to last—but she was still devastated.

  And sure, she’d been on her way to break up with him, but it wasn’t like she’d wanted to—and even if she’d gone through with it, it would have been in person and nicely and with words she honestly felt about how much this summer had meant to her—because she’d never be mean enough to leave some cold, cowardly note that may as well have said, “Nice fuck, see you around.” She’d thought—naively—that the Shawn she’d come to know wasn’t cruel enough to do that, either.

  But it was obvious how wrong she’d been, and that was what hurt the most. She’d gone out on a limb, gone against what she knew was best for her, and look at how it had all blown up in her face.

  Shawn wasn’t her type. What had at first seemed carefree to her, in retrospect looked like carelessness. His fun, easygoing attitude now looked rash. She was embarrassed at how much she’d loved it when it was happening, when she got to blow off work, forget her responsibilities, leave her phone and her laptop and her worries at home.

  And she was embarrassed at how much she still missed it, even now.

  But Marlene would never look at her with sympathy and tell her to take some extra time to heal. She’d never shift around Jessie’s responsibilities so she didn’t have so much on her plate. Talia would never hug her and ply her with wine and blast loud breakup music through the apartment and cue up their favorite movies about friendship and independence and not needing a man—all the things Jessie did for Talia when she went through a breakup, and all the things Jessie could have used right about now.

  Because Talia didn’t want them to be together, anyway, and Jessie didn’t want her to know how much not being together was hurting.